The Howling
by Crimsonthorne
Summary: An original story of a young noblewoman who is Called by the wolf within... Some sexual content/references.


Author Notes: Very old and very long biography for a character I developed for a WoT-themed RP site. You can comment on it; it's a very old piece which began to fall away near the end (and I know it! *grins*). I'll probably not edit it though; Janet was a nice character to play.  
  
The Howling  
  
Mmmm. The cherries were scrumptious. She would have to order the cook to make a cherry pie tonight, for it was her favourite. Waving away the servant who hovered at her side, she took another and popped it into her mouth and allowed herself to indulge unseen by the servants and Mother. The windows of this small sitting room were wide open, giving full allowance for the southern breezes and eastern sunshine to cleanse the room. Mother would never approve of her eating in such an indignified manner. The women of the Arrel family did simply not allow indignity to stain their proud name. The sound of a carriage driving up caught her ear. She sighed, and pushed away the bowl of cherries, half-empty. She had forgotten that Mother had guests expected and here she was, wearing clothing that did not befit the Lady Janet ti Lynne Crocker, who would certainly be introduced to the noble Lady Arabelle's guests. She always smiled as she thought of her mother's name. Such a soft and gentle name for such a strong iron-willed woman.  
  
Silently and quickly, she scurried to her rooms. Well, she did not scurry, as she had watched the servants do, she merely walked quickly and maneuvered her skirts passed all obstacles that stood between her and her path. Noblewomen did not scurry. Years of her nurse and her many tutors had engrained the manners and delicacy of nobility into her mind. Acting against those teachings was simply... unnatural.  
  
With unusually sharp commands, she was dressed by her maids. She would have to make it up to them sometime; maybe allowing them to keep a flower each from one of the arrangements suitors seemed to love to impress on her. Yes, that was a reward to please most maids. More than reward enough, Mother would say.  
  
They left her alone without needing a word, closing the door behind them. They knew the ritual by now. Janet sat down on her most cushioned chair, taking care to not spoil the folds in her skirts and picked up a book from the table in front of her. 'The Hummingbird and the Kissing Rose,' it was called and labeled appropriate for young ladies. A gift from an aunt of some sort and it had been dutifully accepted under her Mother's eyes. She had ensured that Janet would read the book, whether she wanted to or not. She sighed. The book did have some interesting insights on male behaviour, though the remainder of the so-called novel was pure airy Southlander nonsense. She picked up the book; only twenty pages to go and started to read. Perhaps it would become more interesting and she did have nothing to do until she was summoned to smile and show her paces off.  
  
The summons came eventually. Janet smiled and was praised for her beauty, her intelligence and the other usual compliments. The remainder of the afternoon was spent nodding and murmuring sweet nothings over tea. The visitors were elderly women, old friends of her grandmother. Lady Arabelle seemed to be as impatient as Janet was to see them leave. Finally, the women pleaded other business and slowly returned to their carriage, mother and daughter seeing them off. As the dirt settled in the fading sunlight, Lady Arabelle ordered Janet sternly to come to her study. Obediently, she followed, though her steps were small. Light! What had she done now?! She banished her inappropriate cursing and mentally examined her behaviour at this afternoon's social and could find no faults.  
  
She was seated at a chair by the already-lit fireplace, obviously waiting for her. She lightly curtsied and waited for Mother to begin. She didn't dare take a seat; she needed to gauge Mother's temper first.  
  
"Come and sit, Janet." Lady Arabelle smiled her predator grin. "We have much to discuss. Joise, pour us some of the white wine."  
  
She sat neatly across from her. Rarely, if ever had she seen her Mother this friendly. There must be money involved and a lot to make her this happy and willing to drink the wine she kept exclusively for celebrations and important guests. The servant placed the glasses in their hands and withdrew.  
  
Lady Arabelle sipped and looked intently into the fire. Janet copied her as far as the sip and waited, watching her mother, now and then looking at the large portrait that hung on the wall behind the lady. Both women, one living and one dead, reminded Janet only of her duty to her family. It brought her family's story to life in her mind.  
  
Clara ti Pira Arrel had been born in the legendary city of Malkier, the Seven Towers, the Thousand Lakes spread wide at the city's feet. She had been born of and married into a good and influential family. She was not of the greater lines of any of those two families, yet that had been her salvation in the end. She had heard the rumours of infighting among the Great Lords and wisely left the country selling all her own assets and settling at this country house. Her husband had not accompanied her. He had not believed her or the rumours and had stayed until the end in the Seven Towers and later at Herot's Crossing. Duty was paid quite heavily at times. Her sons had been old enough to choose whether to go or stay and young enough to choose to stay, but her daughter Arabelle had been young enough to take without a word. So Clara had settled here with her daughter, teaching her the Malkieri secret ways of women and married her to a wealthy Malkieri, now Kandori merchant named Albar Crocker. The Arrels had needed more money to maintain their lifestyle, Crocker needed a title to do more business. It was a love affair of necessity.  
  
Clara had died before Janet had been born. Perhaps it was for the best; she guessed that she must have been a lot like her mother was now. The Lady Arabelle was still young, relatively speaking, only shadows of grey and lines of tension just now beginning to affect her. Her ki'sain was white, but her husband not dead. He only returned to the county house of Clara when necessary. They had lived as husband and wife as long as Clara had been alive, but had separated as soon as she had been laid within the embrace of the Mother, pregnant Arabelle back to her childhood home and Albar to his own nearby and alone. He was often away on business, yet Janet was quite aware that he had several mistresses in his life. It did not bother her. She rarely ever thought about him, a strong and quietly determined man, his brow still showing the marks of his former nationality. He used to visit when she was younger and bring her gifts, but he had not visited for a long time. She suspected that she was now a liability more than an asset to him now. A young woman needed a dowry, did she not? Arabelle had dangled many a man on her youthful curves and haunting eyes, her long brown hair unbound and free to her waist. She had taught Janet as a cat taught its kittens the arts of a Malkieri noblewoman. And now the mother cat was purring in pleasurable circumstances. She finally turned to Janet, a smile again lighting her face.  
  
"I have found you a perfect match, my daughter and heir."  
  
Her hands tightened on the glass. She was as good as married now; Arabelle had made up her mind. "And who might this gentleman be, my mother?" She allowed herself to sound breathless. She had known that many of the local lords and their sons and cousins had been sniffing at her skirts, but she needed names and certainly marrying a local would not given Arabelle this much pleasure. She wanted the Arrel bloodline as pure as possible.  
  
Mother sat back, still flushed with pleasure. "Isam Mandragoran."  
  
Her mouth dropped open. It was impossible! "Mother, I... How?" She didn't dare say it was impossible; if her mother said it was so, then it was.  
  
"Let's say that I have connections across the world and they brought Isam to me. He has seen your picture and approves. He is worthy and experienced enough to be a good cairneira for you. You will enjoy him." The last was nearly a command. Well, not a command, but the tone had been quite different... No, it couldn't be... "Has Lord Mandragoran been one of your lovers?" She really didn't care if that was a rude way to phrase that question; there was no true polite way. All she did was smile and that was answer enough.  
  
"Mother!" Janet stood up. She could not repress the shock. "You slept with this man and now you expect me to for the rest of my life?" The idea was dirty and horrible! Both of them, lovers entwined were dirty for thinking of it. Arabelle raised a hand and spoke sharply. "End this silliness! You are not a child, so don't act like one." Never once did she raise her voice; she had no need to. Janet sat down, uncaring if her skirts were crumpled or worse. That was madness!  
  
Arabelle's eyes shined with her anger as she pointed a finger at Janet. "You will obey me. Think of all the sacrifices I have had to make in order to provide for you. Without you, I could have been a High Lady or greater, Queen. Think of the dowry that I am paying so that my daughter and my line will become the royal line of Malkieri."  
  
That was a slap to the face. Royal line of Malkieri? "What?" she blurted out, amazed.  
  
Arabelle stopped and smiled her cruelest grin. "Yes, you will be Queen of Malkieri. That which should have been my mother's and mine is yours. And you think nothing of it. What an ungrateful child you are."  
  
What happened next was the usual when Lady Arabelle fell into one of her furies. Janet spent the rest of the evening apologizing and ducking objects until the fury had been exhausted out of the woman and she collapsed into a chair. The servants would move her into her own bed. Then she crept out of Mother's study into her rooms and slept.  
  
When she awoke, it seemed as if the evening before was a wine-induced dream. Everything was the same, yet somehow different. Maybe her view of the world was different. The trees outside her window still swayed to the same wind, but it didn't look the same. Perhaps those Southlander books weren't that wrong after all.  
  
So, time to prepare for the day. Mother loathed sloth. Yawning, she ordered her servants about and soon breakfast was prepared for her. Next was dressing and then her first errand of the day, checking the supplies of the kitchen. It had been a duty of hers for a long time now, perfect for the young lady of the household. It was very easy; the cook seldom lied and when she did, it was for good cause. Janet suspected that Mother gave her the task because it did involve some dirtiness.  
  
Several hours later, finding everything to her satisfaction, she was free for the afternoon to do as she wished. What she wished for was a walk in the deeper paths of the extensive gardens of the house. It would give her time and the space to think over this latest turn of events. The gardens closer to the house were well-maintained and constantly inhabited by a fleet of gardeners, but the gardens farther away were essentially left natural and unkept. She preferred the natural to the unnatural. There was a certain air of lies within the ornamental trees and sculpted shrubs. It was a fair walk from the house, yet well worth it. She finally reached her favourite spot, a tree stump on a slight hill and sat down, mindful of dirt. No matter really; the clothes she was wearing today were not her best by far.  
  
So. She stilled her mind to the problem at hand. She had a husband picked for her and there was nothing she could do there. It was the way of the Malkieri, a dead country now, yes, but it lived as long as its traditions did. That was what she had been brought up on. It was not the arranged marriage that truly bothered her; it was the fact she would be marrying one that had shared the sheets of her mother. Shameful that was, to both her and the family too, even if Mother was the own family she had. Plus her husband being her cairneira, that was not right either. Janet was fully aware that it was the custom of Southlanders and perhaps Isam Mandragoran had been raised in the south, but it was not the way of the Malkieri. She had questioned the matter of her choosing a cairneira before to Mother and Mother had violently reacted. The Arrel line must stay pure and there were no boys in the district that were of suitable lines. She hadn't dared to remind her that there were ways to not get pregnant, thus keeping the line true. She hadn't dared to disobey her mother either. She smiled. She hadn't had any opportunity.  
  
But now, back to the problem. This man, this Isam Mandragoran; she had read her histories and knew that Isam Mandragoran was dead, killed by the Shadow's invasion of Malkier when he was an infant. This man must have impressed Arabelle greatly for her to believe that. She shuddered; if so, this man had to be as old as her mother! Come to think of it, he had sure knowledge that he had shared sheets with his future mother-in-law! This man could not have a great moral standard to be like that! So, there was the root of it right there. She was trapped, chained by Fate and Custom to marry an evil man.  
  
The sun hadn't moved much since her arrival here, nor were there any cries from servants looking for her. Good, she hadn't been missed yet. The sun emerged from behind clouds and cast a beam at her feet. Warmth filled her as she shivered inside. Her heart quaked at the mere thought. What was she to do? Run away? To where? Fake an illness? That was only temporary. Try to convince her mother? Never! Impossible! The options were very small. To run or to die. She would rather die clean than be sullied by this affair and that man! She was quite aware that killing herself over a marriage was quite silly and passionate, yet that was how she felt. She could not excuse her feelings from her innermost mind.  
  
A movement in the bushes in front of her caught her eye. Some wild creature, like a rabbit probably. Definitely not a Blight animal this far south and reports of Shadowspawn were rare. One had to admire the Queen's men. Another rustling sound and golden-brown eyes stared at her from between branches for a second, then the wolf fully emerged from the vegetation. She froze, watching the wolf very carefully. If she didn't move, maybe it would go away. That was what she seemed to remember a hunter telling her when she was younger.  
  
The wolf paced slowly towards her, showing no fear or aggression, tail lowered and swaying slightly in the wind. It looked curious, more than anything, if emotion could be attributed to an animal. As it came closer and closer, she willed it to turn and go away. Don't eat me. I'm too skinny. The wolf sat itself down in front of her and opened its mouth, tongue lolling in amusement, it seemed. Peculiar, this wolf was. Maybe it was tame? Of course, no one tamed wolves, but still... Janet made herself walk towards it and extended a hand for it to sniff. Tame or not, it didn't seem to have any desire to run away or attack her. She sniffed her hand politely; for some reason, Janet was sure it was female and resumed her study of Janet. Well, what a strange animal! Janet smiled and walked back to her seat, listening to see if the wolf was following her. When she had seated herself, the wolf walked slowly towards her and sat down behind her.  
  
"Well, thank you for the company, but what am I to call you?"  
  
She smiled as she spoke. Mother had never approved of her having pets. She studied her new four-legged friend with whitish-gray fur suited for the northern climate. Perhaps it was also an indication of her age too, like gray hairs? The wolf looked up at her patiently.  
  
"You almost seem to understand what I'm say too!"  
  
The image of a snowy dawn rising over craggy hills, crisp from the night, frozen lakes glittering in the sun came to her mind for some reason.  
  
"I think I'll call you Winterdawn. Is that alright?"  
  
The wolf seemed to approve and relaxed again. "Fine, Winterdawn, it is. My name is Janet ti Lynne Crocker."  
  
She felt strange, introducing herself to an animal, yet it seemed appropriate and right. Winterdawn seemed to be a creature of great delicacy and manners. "So what brings you to my home? Hunting? Is there bad hunting in woods to the south and north?"  
  
The wolf did not reply in any movement, but she had a feeling that hunting was involved, though not of the usual type. Janet decided to share the concerns on her own mind; maybe speaking them out loud would help.  
  
She sighed. "I don't how to begin. I'm stuck in a cage and I don't know how to get out."  
  
Winterdawn's head turned towards her and she seemed to be listening intently. Janet continued. "My mother wants me to marry a man that she has been with as a lover and go off with this man to the Light only knows where. The very idea is so shameful that I want to run away or even die!" She finished in a rush. "If I run, where to? I have never traveled far, nor do I have the connections that Mother seems to have. I just don't know what to do anymore." She sunk her head in despair.  
  
The wolf seemed to share her anger and frustration regarding the up-coming marriage and an image of running through the woods appeared in her mind. No, that would not do either. I have no survival skills for living on my own. The image was replaced by one containing several wolves, a whole pack of them, travelling together. She lifted her head and looked at Winterdawn. That thought was certainly not hers! She seemed to smile secretly as Janet shook her head. Wolves did not talk to you inside your head! Mind you, neither did they sit down beside you like an old friend.  
  
"I have to go," she announced to Winterdawn, standing up. "Shall I see you again? Perhaps tomorrow?" Winterdawn also rose and turned towards the woods in an easy run. There were no images, but she was sure that the wolf would return.  
  
The pack was excited to have found another Wolfsister and the word spread quickly among wolves from hill to valley, over rivers and streams. It was agreed that only Winterdawn would deal with the she-cub for now; any more could frighten her away. With the patience that came with long age and many cubs, Winterdawn took her share of the deer that had been pulled down and lay down in the leaves to sleep until the next day.  
  
The rest of the day and during the night, her mind continued to wander on the strange events that had happened at the stump with the wolf. Maybe it was a sign that she could channel; she faintly remembered some story about an Aes Sedai that could talk to animals. She had been tested when she was twelve by a wandering Sister and she had found no spark within Janet. Both Mother and herself had been pleased, but what if the Aes Sedai had been wrong?  
  
Lady Arabelle had been resting in her rooms all day, no doubt a hangover, thus leaving Janet some peace and quiet. It would not last long, but it was appreciated. Mother never rested for longer than a day.  
  
The next day, as Janet had predicted, Lady Arabelle was up and busy, commanding the servants and making plans for a party. So busy she was that she only noticed Janet enough to inform her that in the hour, the seamstress would come to measure her for a party frock and her wedding dress. Janet sighed. So she wasn't even allowed to choose her own dress? Shame.  
  
The fitting was quick, the seamstress having fitted Janet before and Janet's own figure not changing much. The thin woman with pins in her mouth advised her on her diet and told her that the dresses would be ready as she had ordered, three months from today. Janet mentally cursed. So soon? Mother must be pushing to get rid of me!  
  
So it was with great happiness that she left the house for the stump. She had no reason to expect Winterdawn to be there, no reason at all, yet she was certain that she would be there. She could almost feel it. Winterdawn raised her head as Janet approached. "Light! I'm glad to see you!" She exclaimed as she sat down. "Mother is going to have me wed in three months! This Isam Mandragoran must really be offering her something for me! I wonder what it is? What?"  
  
The wolf's hackles rose as she had spoken her intended's name. Pure violent hatred coursed through her veins. She didn't know why. No, she did know why. Slayer was evil, a killer of the pack... "No!" She bounded to her feet and Winterdawn gave her askance, like an elderly woman at a rude guest. "Slayer is not..." Images of a Malkieri man and a red-haired Andorean man overlapped, a crossbow in his hands and feelings of death, destruction and evil, rolled over her. "Stop it!" She commanded the wolf. "I won't marry him for my own reason, not just because he is Slayer..." She didn't know where that name came from, but it felt like Isam Mandragoran, slimy, yet very dangerous. Winterdawn shrugged. Janet resumed her seat. She certainly was not going to go back home in this temper!  
  
She talked a long time with the wolf; well, it did seem to be a conversation, the way images seemed to rise in her mind as she spoke. Janet was fairly certain now that it wasn't her. Things did not seem as clear as they did without Winterdawn's presence and she had never been an overly imaginative child. When she slept, she dreamed of simple things, like dresses and the such, but she kept dreaming of woods and running free through the trees under the light of the moon.  
  
Winterdawn was worried and she shared her concerns with the pack. Slayer was coming here in three moons. The pack should move, run before then. Yet there was this cub and she would be eaten by Slayer, her fur worn by him as a prize kill by a young male. It was decided that the majority of the pack would run eastward in a moon, a few left to guide the cub and try to save it. Winterdawn would be one of those remaining. She had led a pack before in her younger days. The cub was learning slowly, but Winterdawn was sure that she would be ready to run when the time came. The she-cub was already halfway between the Dream and this world.  
  
The days seemed to fly beneath autumn's last breath. Janet met every day with Winterdawn and they talked, about mostly nothing at all. Silence spoke volumes. The Lady Arabelle was holding a party to celebrate her daughter's engagement in two weeks. Until then, Janet was free to do as she wished. After all, the last thing that was wanted was for Janet to be muddled in the wedding plans. If she did not know her duty by now, she would never.  
  
The fun thing was that Janet had begun to notice strange things. She seemed to be able to see things clearer from a farther distance and at night even! Sometimes, she could swear that she didn't need any light to read at night! Her hearing seemed more acute too. She heard all of the servants' gossip without even staining now. Some of it was pure nonsense, while other bits... Meat seemed more interesting to her taste buds than vegetables. It was hard, telling the cook that she now preferred her meat rare, though at times rare was cooked too much.  
  
She wondered amusedly if she was becoming a wolf from some disease from Winterdawn, but she didn't think so. Yes, it was a change, a frightening change at times when she really thought about it, yet it didn't feel wrong. It didn't feel evil. Winterdawn was not evil and Janet just knew that she would never do anything to harm her. It seemed strange that Mother and the servants hadn't noticed anything; it was so plain to her.  
  
Except, what was it? A sign of the One Power? Madness? She really didn't want to think about that. If I am mad, she thought to herself fervantly, let me never wake up! She had explained to Winterdawn that tomorrow was the party and she could not meet her, but if the Light willed, the day after she would. 'Talking' to the wolf seemed much easier than it was before. At times, she swore she heard words back, but it might have only been the wind. Maybe if she listened hard enough...  
  
Absently changing for bed, she mentally thought about the party tomorrow. What she would do to be able to get away from it! There would be people there that she had never even spoken to before, greeting her as a friend. People would shower her with gifts and compliments and Mother would parade her like a prized bull. Still, nothing to do but wait and wish it over as soon as possible. Would Winterdawn be there? A voice in her mind said: We come.  
  
Sleep overtook her soon and with it came those vivid hunting with Winterdawn and Treechaser. She smiled in her sleep. Treechaser was such a silly and excitable wolf. He had yelped at trees when he was a cub, thinking them tall men. He did get side tracked easily, but he was so earnest and open in what he did. It was fun to hunt with him. She smiled, back in her bedroom, as she raised her crossbow, already loaded for the kill, pointing at the deer as it raised its antlered head and looked at her with large, deeply wise eyes...With a grin, she loosed the bolt and ran with her brother and sister to the prize of their hunt.  
  
"Miss, please wake up. M'lady ordered me to wake you. It's your day today."  
  
Janet woke up rather groggily; her sleep had been quite heavy after the hunting dreams. The maid's gasp quickly made her alert.  
  
"What?" She commanded sharply.  
  
The maid stepped back, her eyes wide and her mouth open. "I must tell Lady Arabelle! Lady Janet, stay in bed!" The woman ran away, leaving the door open in her haste.  
  
She frowned; what was wrong? She did not feel ill in any way and there was no blood around her, no sign of any violence. She did not have to wait long though, quick footsteps and Mother's angry mutterings echoed through the hall. Both women entered her room, the maid nervously and Mother enraged. "What is it that you were muttering about? I..."  
  
She stopped, looking at Janet, mouth opened.  
  
Janet was amazed and shocked herself; never had she seen her mother at a loss for words. The maid led Arabelle to a chair and the woman plopped herself down, without looking. Her eyes seemed focused on nothing.  
  
"Call the doctor. Call an Aes Sedai." She told the maid without emotion. "Tell the guests that there will be no party today. My daughter has had a sudden illness."  
  
The maid curtsied and hurried away. Arabelle continued to sit, still obviously shocked. "Mother," she rarely used that title with her, "What is wrong with me? What is everyone so worried about? I feel fine, perfect."  
  
Janet's words seemed to force Arabelle out of her daze. "Just stay in bed." Her words sounded frightingly like a mother's, soothing and at the same time, very agitated. "We'll get a doctor or a sister and everything will be fine." She stroked Janet's forehead and she shivered. She didn't like her touching her. There was just something in her smell...  
  
Arabelle took one last look at her daughter and then left, closing the door behind her. Immediately, she sprung out of the bed and looked at her mirror. Since no one was telling her anything...She then gasped. Light, her eyes! She didn't care about curses or not. Light! The eyes of a wolf stared back, incredulous. In a night, her eyes had changed from brown to gold.  
  
Winterdawn? She thought, afraid. What is going on? She really didn't expect an answer, yet she could also sense the presence of Winterdawn and Treechaser and other wolves nearby, within a few miles. The words were still faint, but growing stronger as she mentally strained to hear.  
  
You are Wolfkin. An image of a man and a wolf traveling together. She felt a sense of antiquity to it and yet, an air that it was being reborn.  
  
What does it mean? Winterdawn seemed slightly puzzled as to why Janet would ask that question. You are part of the pack. An image of a pack of wolves. Now Janet was confused.  
  
How it that possible? I am human and you are wolf. The image of the man and wolf was shown again with more intensity. You are wolf and two-legs!  
  
Janet sat down on her bed with a sigh. How was this possible? Why this? Why now?  
  
"What am I going to do?" She murmured into her hands. Run! Run with us, Long Claw! Let us hunt again! Treechaser's eager voice piped in. Long Claw? She didn't know that the wolves had a name for her. Long Claw was of course not her real name; it was a small young wolf with light gray fur standing on two legs on top of a hilltop, its long claws scratching vainly at the moon in the sky. Even then, the words did not convey every detail. For the long and short of it, her wolf name contained every nuance of her personality and her history, with a touch of the future.  
  
Images of the hunt she and the pack had had during her dreams last night flashed through her head. It had felt good, proper, right. The crossbow had felt right. She was no expert in it, her aiming leaving at times much to be desired. She had begged one of the servants when she was younger and wilder to teach her the bow. The man had not, fearing discovery by the marks on her hands. So he had taught her a little of the crossbow instead, the cleaning of the weapon and basic usage of it, before he had moved on to another position at a more prestigious House. She practiced it now rarely, understanding that it would be dire conditions before she would actually be forced to use it. But if she went with the wolves, she would need it.  
  
That was a new thought, a viable option to marrying Slayer. She snarled in her head; he was Isam Mandragoran, not Slayer! The dreams had proven that she could live safely with the wolves as part of the pack. She suddenly thought of something. Are there more like me? Where will the pack travel to?  
  
Winterdawn's reply was sudden. Yes. Many. We travel towards more. Images of what Janet assumed to be others like her swam within her head and a place where many wolves were, up in the mountains. Well, life with the wolves would be an adventure. But was she ready?  
  
It would be so different, so new. She didn't know anything about living in the wild (Treechaser spoke impatiently: You don't need to!), nor about common people or really anything other than running a household and the various manners that went with it. She had nothing to offer to the pack. You have much, silly cub, barely out of the den! Winterdawn sounded disgusted with her musings.  
  
Well, what choice did she have? To live always halfway between the world of men and wolves, or live completely in the wolves' world? She already knew it would be impossible to live in the human world, pretending to not hear the packs. Slayer hated wolves and wolves hated Slayer. Slayer killed. The finality of it was impressed on Janet from the wolves' impression of him. He was very dangerous and to be avoided, especially for a young cub like Janet.  
  
Just then the doctor entered the room, accompanied by the maid, fussing around him like a bee to a wildflower. Janet had no real choice but to comply to his wishes. She was poked and prodded and questioned. After an hour, he finally gave up and admitted that he was at a loss. Lady Arabelle was not pleased to hear that and had it known that she had requested an Aes Sedai to attend to her daughter. She had to be well for the wedding. Proponing it was not an option.  
  
Janet shivered. What would an Aes Sedai do? Aes Sedai knew things. They might take her to the Tower to be studied, an animal in a cage, just like the people in some of those menageries that she had heard about from the servants' talk. She tried to think it out. How quickly would an Aes Sedai from Chachin or one of the larger towns come here? Surely not until the end of the week at least. The case of a young noblewoman with strange eyes would not attract much attention. Unless the Aes Sedai was Yellow or Brown or had some interest in people like her... Suddenly running with the wolves was more attractive. So, she had a week to prepare. First, to start sneaking some food and some decent clothes for the wilderness of the north. Then some provisions, blankets, a horse that was of a manner to withstand the presence of wolves, and... The door flew open.  
  
"Mistress Janet, Brelyn Sedai is coming to see you in the hour. Mi'lady says you must be presentable." The maid blurted out. Janet could only lift her arms as the maid took her shift off. Now?! There was no time for escape! She tried to compose herself.  
  
"Is this Aes Sedai visiting this locale and of what Ajah is she?" She hoped the maid didn't think those questions strange. The woman paid no attention. "Oh, yes. Brelyn Sedai was visiting his Lordship's house on her way south from the capital. She's of the Green Ajah, at least that's what Hew said when he returned."  
  
The woman chattered on about nothing, while Janet thought. Green was certainly better than some and perhaps this Aes Sedai would just visit and leave her alone. Except she really be curious if she is coming this quickly... The wolves seemed to share her fears; they patrolled the perimeter.  
  
Soon, her clothing was settled, but not her mind at all. She wishes the Aes Sedai would just come! A carriage drove up in the silence and a woman stepped out. Janet was peering outside the window; her eyes were very keen now. She was a southlander, a Cairhein if she was not mistaken. Maybe she would be incompetent. She hoped so. Impatiently, she paced as the Aes Sedai was greeted by Mother and shown the way to her patient. Light! It would be like her to give a guest tea and biscuits before!  
  
The door creaked open and the Aes Sedai walked in with an assured pace. She looked to be a reasonable woman. No Warders tailing her either. But she smelled sad, this a thin facade over grief. A good woman, but sad. So sad. Janet was not sure at all about that; she looked to be in control here. The Sister turned to the maid and asked her to leave them alone. The maid bowed herself out and left them without a word.  
  
"So," the woman eyed her carefully. "They tell me that you woke up this morning with yellow eyes. The doctor came to visit and he found no cause, no sign of illness, nothing. Well, I am Aes Sedai, though of the Green Ajah, and I have more tools at my command than a hedge doctor." She smiled to take the sting out of her words and to make Janet comfortable, though she smelled like the smile was to ease herself. The woman was very nervous. "If you will allow me..."  
  
She walked towards Janet and placed her hands on her forehead. A shiver ran down her spine and up again. The Green Sister frowned. The chill returned. The woman looked at her eyes and took a step back, humming to herself. "I can find nothing wrong with you. You're as healthy as a woman can be, healthier than most. But those eyes aren't natural..." The woman mused. "If only I had the right books, some more information... I'm sure I could do something."  
  
Janet felt sorry for her; she smelled so frustrated. Could she trust this two-leg she who touch the wind that moves the sun and call fire? She smelled like she could. So Janet did. She told her the truth. Brelyn Sedai was skeptical at first, but when Janet showed her examples and finished her tale, she believed.  
  
"I have seen some men and women with yellow eyes in the Tower." She spoke thoughtfully. "But they were Warders to Sisters. Then suddenly, they all disappeared within the space of a week. Very strange." Janet agreed with her. "Yes, that is strange."  
  
Winterdawn gave some information. The Pack Leader called everyone back to the Den. There was an emphasis on 'Pack Leader' and 'Den' was more than a simple hole in the ground. Are we going to the Den? Where is it? Winterdawn paused. Yes. Many others like you there. Follow the mountains. Follow the river. Janet sighed. Wolf directions were too general.  
  
Brelyn had noticed her pause in the conversation and cocked her head. "I can't really explain, other than I have to leave this place. This place isn't for me." As she said it finally, she felt it to be true. These walls were oppressive and the idea of Slayer was even more. She needed the air, the wind and the Hunt!  
  
Brelyn nodded. "Perhaps that is what made the Warders leave. When will you leave?"  
  
Janet took a breath. "As soon as I can. I must prepare first though."  
  
She nodded. "I understand." A sudden smile and she smelled of amusement. "Do you require a diversion for your departure? I'm quite willing. It will give your community here something to talk about."  
  
Janet smiled. "No, I would prefer to leave as quietly as possible. There will be enough talk as it is." Definitely there would be tales of wolves stealing her no matter what. "Maybe you can help. Tell my mother that with long walks and nutritional food, I will recover. It's nerves." She smiled; yeah, that would work.  
  
Brelyn shared her smile. "I will. Trust me, Janet. Your secret is safe with me. Unlike many of my Sisters, I believe in letting people choose their own paths." She rose and extended a hand to shake. "Good luck in your new life."  
  
Janet shook it gladly. "And you with yours. Please don't be sad. He wouldn't want it." Janet must have smelled right; Brelyn was surprised. "How? Never mind... Thank you. I will try."  
  
The Aes Sedai left the room with greater poise than she had possessed when entering. Janet smiled and watched Brelyn walk to her carriage and leave. At least she had one friend outside for her. She made a reminder to inquire about Brelyn Sedai if she was ever in Tar Valon and visit.  
  
Drawing the drapes, she began to pack the essentials for her departure, so that the maids would not discover the absence or her small hoard. Now that her mind was made up, she was going to go all the way. She found her packing to be less than what she expected with a smile. Tomorrow, she would acquire foodstuffs and general supplies. The servants would simply have to live with missing a few of their things. Tomorrow, many things would change.  
  
It was almost too easy. Lady Arabelle was delighted that her daughter would be fine and more than willing to let Janet have the day off to recover in wandering around the house and 'gardens' outside. It was perfect for Janet to take supplies and stash them in the woods. Winterdawn and Treechaser were willing to keep an eye on her stuff for a day. By the time the sun was setting, all the supplies were ready. She only needed to saddle a middle- aged gray pony that she had chosen during the morning as her mount. Now, the question was tonight or tomorrow night? She was tired and that could be her downfall. Plus, she needed to put distance in before she was discovered. She had no doubt that one they were free of the area, she and the pack would be safe from Lady Arabelle's hand. But until then... She decided to wait until the next night. She would sleep the day in her room, playing ill and pleading fatigue and flee as soon as the house was silent. A lack of moonlight did not worry her; it would still be bright to her eyes. With this thought, she slept with a guilt-free conscience.  
  
She had worried when the maid fretted at the Lady Janet's tiredness, but the woman had been placated when informed that the Aes Sedai had told her that this might happen and it was part of the illness. Sighing happily as the maid shut the door quietly and informed Lady Arabelle of her illness, Janet began to make a final sweep of anything she might need or want. She could take few dresses with her, too fine and they would be useless as winter was coming. Better to take another blanket though.  
  
She paced occasionally, but read most of the time, cursing the sun's slow movements when she looked outside. She leaped back into bed when dinner came. She finished the meal; mmmm, beef stew with large chunks greedily and awaited the time of silence. Silence was her friend tonight and she supposed from there onward.  
  
Finally, she heard her mother walk briskly to her own rooms and the lower part of the house become silent. She lit a small candle and counted on the wick. An hour later, she crept, using every piece of the skills that she had ever learned, in the world and in her hunting dreams. She congratulated herself when she got out of the house without a sound.  
  
Crossing the courtyard to the stable would be difficult though. The dogs would be alert... Treechaser made a sound of disgust. They are tame and full of bark and not bite! She suppressed a giggle. Treechaser was overestimating, but it was such a true thought! One dog did bark once, a young bitch, but she told it sharply to be silent, and surprised, she did. The household did not stir. One dog barking once was not a cause for alarm.  
  
The stable was dark, but she found what she needed quickly and the horse awoke with a snort and a shake. It was a sensible creature and used to strange ideas. It took no objection to being saddled at night without a lamp and it being led across and through the gardens to the woods. Janet could not help herself but to wince with each step of the horse, so loud it was in the silence.  
  
She instructed Winterdawn to approach the animal carefully and slowly. She did and the animal did not so much as twitch; it merely stood its ground and eyed the wolf strangely. Seeing peace, Janet attached her bags to the horse and tied the reins to her wrist and they took off, all three running into the woods towards Treechaser and the pack hidden there.  
  
Soundlessly, Treechaser and two others joined them as they ran and walked. No Tail was a soured old male who had lost his tail in a fight long ago to a trolloc. Red Leaf was a small, yet feisty female with a coat the colour of the leaves of maples as they turned in the autumn breezes. Definitely not of the mountain variety of the rest of the pack. Red Leaf had probably joined this pack after her own being killed. They all paced onwards, south as Janet could tell. As they walked, she listened to the sounds of the woods, listening to everything. It all seemed so brand new, so fresh and exciting. Winterdawn snorted in her mind: Yearling cub! but it was said affectionately. She was one of the pack truly now and her pack members would fight to the die to keep her with them.  
  
When the sun arose on the country estate of Lady Arabelle, the murmur began to rise. Lady Janet was not in her bedroom. She was ill. They searched the house, search the lands after that. The servants whispered tales of the Lady Janet being taking by a pack of wolves or maybe even turning into a wolf herself, for it was said that she had had yellow eyes and had been acting strangely lately. Then the supplies were found missing and superstition toned down. The girl had run away from her forth-coming marriage to a wealthy lord, taking a lover with her, though no one knew his name. Maybe the Aes Sedai had taken her to Tar Valon. Yes, that made sense. It was the most sensible of the reasons and the most accepted.  
  
Janet ti Lynne Crocker, called Long Claw by her pack members, roamed the woods, always aiming south, towards an unseen call. All she really knew about the destination was that it was safe, in the mountains and that many wolf packs and people like herself were there, including this mysterious Pack Leader.  
  
She was learning as she traveled, learning how to live off the land and how to be, well, a proper human pack member. Her use of the crossbow that she had stolen with her was improved greatly as Necessity forced her. Her senses were becoming even more keen and her communication with the wolves more ...complete? Yes, that was as close as she could come to explaining it. They traveled though woods, and then crossed a plain, the Caralain Grass, she believed, then more woods, though mostly broadleafs now. They came to the city of Baerlon, in Andor. Andor! She had walked to Andor?! How she longed to stay there! A real bed and a bath tub and real laundry... Real food, her stomach rumbled. Yet they were almost there. The mountains were ahead. There had been a mountain range near her home, yet she had known that it wasn't the one.  
  
Taking on step at a time, the pack and horse (called Stupid, affectionately) went into the mountains, looking for the sanctuary of the Den...  
  
Thus ends my life, as of now.  
  
Janet ti Lynne Crocker 


End file.
